


Everybody Needs A Shoulder Sometimes

by AngeNoir



Category: Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes
Genre: Consequences, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emperor Stark, Episode Related, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Miscommunication, Misconceptions, Rebuilding, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4151643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers honestly thought he was helping. Tony Stark honestly thought Steve Rogers was supervising. Somewhere they meet in the middle and realize more than they expected.</p><p>Okay, more than Tony Stark expected, but Steve could forgive him that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve Rogers Tries (with Mixed Success)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [navaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/gifts).



> I really do hope this works! I tried to hit both how Tony balances (or not) his work life and his Avengers life, and the fallout from Emperor Stark episode, with a dash of Steve/Tony in there.
> 
> also it's rated explicit more to be on the safe side

Steve was walking the mansion, unable to really settle for the night without seeing those familiar walls again. He’d forgotten how much this place had been a _home_ under the Purple Man’s influence, forgotten what it was like to be here in a place where he had a room. Underneath the Purple Man, they all lived in Stark Tower. They were running, back and forth, trying to keep the peace. For all that the satellite pushed the Purple Man’s influence out, there were places that didn’t fold. They had been sent out over and over again, they had patrolled the streets, and just… having the ability to be in a _home_.

He hadn’t even realized how much he missed it.

There was a crash, something that grabbed his attention immediately. It had come from Tony’s room – he hadn’t known the man was back yet – and he went down the hall quickly, to pause outside the door. Should he enter? They had left Tony (not the Avengers’ best moment) to deal with Pepper and the PR mess their lives had been (and caused), and Steve hadn’t known the man would even make it back to the mansion today. Purple Man would obviously need to be escorted to SHIELD under careful guard, and there would need to be steps taken to start setting the whole _world_ to right.

Steve never envied Tony’s position, power, and duties. Not once.

He knocked softly against the door. “Stark?” he called out quietly. “Are you in there?”

There wasn’t an answer, and so he cracked the door open. The first thing he saw was shattered glass, and his senses kicked into overdrive. He couldn’t see Tony anywhere in the room, and it took him a moment to register the light in the bathroom before Tony opened the door and stopped, staring, wearing nothing but a tank top and boxers, barefoot and shivering a little.

The Tony here looked nothing like the Tony he’d faced earlier that day, cold-eyed and impassive at one moment, and then deeply self-loathing the next. There was a weariness, an almost imperceptible sag to every line of Tony’s body. Licking his lips, he said quietly, “Something I can help you with, Cap?”

“I heard a crash,” Steve replied, instinctively keeping his voice gentle. “I couldn’t sleep, and I was walking the halls. I was worried that – well. I was worried. The glass on the floor didn’t help.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, and his voice was hollowed out, empty. “I don’t think I can sleep, either.” He moved over to the bed and sat down, staring at the glass shards.

Steve thought it was part of a paperweight or figurine – something decorative, because none of the pieces had any recognizable shape he could place. Looking around the room, seeing the mussed covers of the bed, Tony in sleeping clothes, he can guess what happened. “Nightmare?” he asked, sitting down on the edge, not too close so as not to crowd Tony.

Tony laughed, and it was a bitter, broken thing. “I wish,” he said tiredly. “No, it was memories instead. I’ll be fine, Cap. I’ve got some – I’ve got a system for cleaning up the floor. Thanks for stopping by.”

Steve wanted to say something, _do_ something more, but Tony was obviously feeling off-balance and sticking around wouldn’t help. After a few seconds, he nodded and left the room.

In the Purple Man’s world, he and Thor were Iron Man’s enforcers and bodyguards. Now, with the world looking to be put back to rights, and knowing how people turned on what they didn’t understand, looking for a scapegoat, he’d rather stick around Tony. See if he could help out, somehow.

Keep an eye on him, because Tony looking so dispirited was… unsettling.

***

It worked for about a week, perhaps because Tony was so harried. Steve watched, in awe and with more than a little worry, as Tony helped the UN reform, drew back all the Iron Men robots, publically reassured everyone, explained on talk show after talk show around the world what happened, what it was like. Steve became used to seeing Tony’s fake smile, and it was beginning to hurt Steve’s brain.

After a week, though, it was Pepper Potts who stopped Steve outside Tony’s office. Steve was holding coffee for himself and Tony – Tony had already been in the office for twelve hours, and it looked like it was going to be another fourteen or sixteen hour workday – and stood politely but firmly in his way. “We need to talk,” she said succinctly. “If you would follow me?”

He was a little worried the coffee would get cold, but he followed her easily enough to her side office, where she had three different computer screens showing a large amount of data and charts scrolling past. Files stacked neatly high on the desk, and it was chaos but carefully controlled chaos.

“Please, sit,” she said.

Ms. Potts managed all of Tony’s affairs with Stark Industries, and kept track of his various projects that he did for the company and for the Avengers. Steve had never really interacted with her much, mostly because she was here and he had kept to the mansion. But he respected her ability to corral Tony into his duties, and convince Tony to take breaks. So he sat down and smiled bemusedly at her. “I’m not sure what I did to warrant this visit,” he said slowly.

“Don’t you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I understand your desire – the world’s desire – to make sure Tony isn’t compromised again, but isn’t your presence here day in and day out overkill?”

The words threw him for a loop, enough that he stared open-mouthed at her for long moments. It obviously irritated her, because she huffed and said tartly, “It was an honest mistake. Tony has been paying for his mistakes for a long time, and the world never forgets them. Is it too much to ask that Captain America lets this go?”

“I – was here to give him moral support. To stand by his side throughout this storm,” Steve said, voice a little faint. “I never meant to imply otherwise.”

She stared at him, with the distinct flavor of weighing the truth of his words and his intentions, before sighing and muttering under her breath something too fast and slurred for him to catch, though it sounded like Italian. Finally, she sat down behind her desk and massaged her temples.

“I am telling you this in the strictest confidence,” she said after another long, dragged-out moment. “Tony Stark sees Captain America as the pinnacle of perfection. He thinks Steve Rogers is pretty damn close to that, just with more snark. You hovering at his shoulder is making him tense and nervous. Whether this is your intention or not, that’s what’s happening. He thinks you’re making sure he doesn’t screw up the world again. He’s got enough on his plate to deal with that he can’t really afford to be distracted. Just getting the UN to _not_ try him for war crimes has been a battle; when he’s nervous and distracted he gets sharp, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, and if there’s one thing the world loves more than listening to Tony Stark, it’s hanging him out to dry for things beyond his control. Every Avengers battle, every broken building and collateral damage and news report, hits Stark Industries’ stock and while more or less it isn’t as bad as it was in the beginning, it’s still a yo-yo of financial consequences I have to mitigate. I’m _not_ —” she said, voice sharpening and raising slightly as he tried to interject, “—I’m _not_ blaming the Avengers. I’m not blaming you, or even SHIELD. Tony was doing this long before he became part of the Avengers, and nothing I or Rhodes could say would get him to stop. He’s shouldered the world for a while now and while it relieves me greatly to know he’s on a team, that doesn’t mean the world has left him alone. I get what you’re doing, I do, but you need to have a serious talk with the man because our diplomacy is breaking down with the UN, and if he fails there most, if not all, of the companies and governments who have contracts with SI will drop them. That will be a financial hit Stark Industries will not come back from.”

Steve waited, digesting and processing the information, and when it was clear she was done speaking he nodded respectfully. “I’ll take your words under advisement, Ms. Potts, and I’ll do my best to speak to him today. I certainly never intended to have that kind of adverse effects on him.”

“The funny thing is, I believe you,” she sighed. “And I know Tony well enough that he won’t. It’s not me you need to convince, or even talk to. It’s him. He’s not good at talking about things, so I wish you luck, but something’s gotta give at some point, and I’m more and more worried it will be him.”

Nodding gravely, he stood up and picked up the cups of coffee. “Thank you for your frankness, Ms. Potts.”

“Thank you for your delicacy in this manner,” she replied wearily. “And remind Tony that I need those specs by this afternoon so I have time to give them to our MediCorp division.”

Steve exited the office with a lot more to think about than he realized.


	2. Tony Stark Tries (with Questionable Success)

Tony, from a young age, knew one thing and one thing only – if you wanted something done, and done right, you had to do it yourself. Explaining his vision to others never worked; he learned to create designs, and then go over what was built with a fine-toothed comb to make sure someone hadn’t read the designs wrong. Talking things out to people never worked; he learned to understand legal jargon, and read each contract to make sure what he had said was actually in print. Even doing things didn’t always work; he had to telegraph his intentions and have a PR campaign and explain over and over again what his actions _meant_.

It meant that he was used to double, even triple, checking himself in every decision.

It was why being under control of the Purple Man was so hideously terrifying.

He’d had nightmares every single night of the past week, and had woken up sweating and fighting with his blankets, sure that they were the smothering hold of the Purple Man again. That first night he had thrown something, but that had only attracted Captain America to his room – he couldn’t have that happen again. So instead he sat up, panting and trembling and stifling silent sobs, and reached for the tablet that he always kept by the bed now. Better to be doing something productive if he was up, after all.

He knew now of course, as an adult, that his mentality as a kid was unhelpful, to say the least, but it was still there: Stark men were iron. Nothing slowed them down, they showed no weakness to the outside world, and they got shit done. Now, he had tried to mitigate, learn differently, but he could still hear Rhodey telling him the world didn’t have to rest on his shoulders. He had replied that of course it did, of course it had to. Who else would – would take of this world? Would do what Iron Man could do? He’d worked so hard, so long, just as himself. He’d fought to get all his weapons back – a losing battle, considering he still had designs creating destruction throughout the world. Yeah, he had a team now, and a powerful one at that, but that didn’t change the fact that there were so many things wrong in this world that could be traced back to his negligence, his inability to control himself or see past the end of his nose.

And now this disaster with the Purple Man.

Stark Industries’ stock was at an all-time low, though Tony should probably thank Steve for sticking around; people believed in him, if not Tony, and rightly thought that Captain America was making sure Tony Stark didn’t mess up again. Not only was his stock low, though, but the UN wasn’t particularly happy about being disbanded and then reformed. Everyone remembered what it was like when the Iron Legion was flying overhead, and everyone – rightly – feared what Tony could do. Before, Tony Stark was a fuck-up trying to put the world back together. Now, Tony Stark was a bomb that could potentially end the world given enough materials and leeway. How long had it taken for him to repurpose his suits and create the Iron Legion? To crush any pockets of resistance? To appoint heads of whole fucking continents, forcing all countries in the world to kneel to his wishes?

_“Everything I made you do in the last few weeks – it all came from you.”_

It was entirely beside the point that he hadn’t, actually, done anything drastic to anyone’s economy or government structure; the problem was that he _could_ have. The only saving grace the world had had was that Purple Man was largely unaware of just how much he could have done with Tony Stark in the palm of his hand. He’d been focused on getting wealth and living luxuriously, and that was all that he required from Tony Stark – requirements that Tony could provide without, say, emptying the banks from countries around the world. It wasn’t that the Purple Man didn’t force Tony to do it; it was that he hadn’t realized there could have been more luxury, more wealth, available to him. He had humble beginnings, after all, and living off of Tony Stark’s salary and income from Stark Industries had been more than enough to please him.

There was a soft knock at the door.

It could only be one person, Tony realized in dismay, and he considered not answering. He was sure that if he didn’t, Steve would move on. So it was more to his surprise that he cleared his throat and said quietly, “Come in.”

The door swung open and Steve stood there, holding a tray with steaming mugs. He looked uncertain, almost shy. “I figured you’d have another nightmare. I think you’ve been having them every day, but I only figured it out it was a pattern when I realized those bags under your eyes were only getting deeper.”

Tony bit his lip. “I’m fine, Cap.”

“See, I wouldn’t agree with you there,” Steve said, just as quietly as he had spoken moments before. “But I’m definitely not going to force you to talk about it unless you want. So I brought hot chocolate instead.”

For a moment, Tony hesitated. He could kick Steve out, go back to working on his tablet to return power and control to the various parts of the world without either making things worse or disrupting the power structure in place. Or he could let Steve give him something to drink, something that might chase away the cold feeling in his chest.

Heaving a sigh, he put the tablet down and rubbed his temples. “Sure, Cap,” he said tiredly. “Why not.”

He heard, instead of saw, Steve walk over and sit on the bed, on top of the covers that were dropped against Tony’s lap. “Why don’t you lean back against the headboard? Hunching over like that looks like it’s straining your neck.”

With a bitter laugh, Tony obeyed, letting his head fall back while keeping his eyes shut. “If you’re here because you’re worried I’m falling under the influence of something or someone, again—”

“See, that’s what I don’t get,” Steve interrupted.

The novelty of being interrupted by Steve Rogers was enough to derail Tony’s words, and he cracked open his eyes to see Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, right next to him, holding out the kitty mug to Tony. “What?” Tony asked.

“Why you’d think I’m here for something as ridiculous as that. I’m here because a dear friend of mine is hurting, and won’t let me share the burden in any other way except this. I believed in you then and I believe in you now. I don’t understand why that’s hard to comprehend.”

Anger, unexpected and overpowering, surged through his veins, and before he could think he spat out, “Don’t give me that crap, Cap. You managed to shake Purple Man’s influence. You managed to get others to shake it. Hell, _you stood right next to him_ and nothing happened at all. Don’t tell me you – the whole world! – isn’t waiting for me to turn megalomaniac again. I already have to appear before the UN and explain myself, let alone Congress! I have every single human rights group in the world howling for my blood! I have people who hate me for what I did and people who hate me for correcting what I did. I still have fucking _billboards_ up! What in all that leads me to believe any of what you’re saying?!”

Steve met his gaze for a long moment, unmoving, and the silence built uncomfortably. Tony fought not to drop his gaze, chest heaving, and he was ashamed to say that his vision was going blurry.

“I can’t convince you of the truth of my words,” Steve said slowly, heavily. “I understand that, now. But for the same reason you stood by me when the Skrulls used my face to tell humans to surrender peacefully to invaders, that is why I’m here now. Why I’ll always be here, by your side. Because someone took your face and used you for ill and no amount of platitudes will make you feel alright with that – but having someone by your side can make it just that much easier. I should know; having you by _my_ side certainly made that easier for me.”

Tony stared at him, almost unable to process the words, the meaning behind them.

“But dammit, Tony, if there’s one thing I want you to understand, right now, is that I in no way blame you for anything the Purple Man did. I stood right next to him while he had his whole focus tuned to _you_. He wanted _you_ , humiliated and hurting, and he got both. You want to know the real reason he never focused on me?” Steve spread his hands, spilling a little of the cocoa on the floor in his exasperation and frustration. “Because the Purple Man knew damn well that I didn’t matter. Hell, the only one in that room that mattered was you. You at your fighting best could take me down, and don’t think I didn’t notice you fighting his control. You were making him pay for every inch he had.”

Tony knew he should probably form words in response, something, but he simply stared in shock, unable to process anything, and then when he finally managed to kick his brain into some kind of action, he croaked, “I think I could kiss you, honestly.”

“I wish you would,” Steve snapped back, and then froze.

Tony looked at him for a single heartbeat more and then squinted down at the cocoa in his hand. “Did you like, drug this thing?” he said, almost too exhausted to really make it sound snippy. “Or am I, I dunno, hallucinating this whole thing? That’s possible, I suppose. I can’t think of any other reason—”

“Dammit, Tony, you’d try the patience of a saint,” Steve huffed, and then he was leaning forward and Tony couldn’t do more than freeze himself as Steve’s lips brushed against his.

When Steve pulled away, Tony managed to find his voice enough to say, “Is this a pity-thing, because I don’t think I could take it if it is, and trust me when I say I can’t think of any other reason for you to be here after one of my nightmares saying things I only ever dreamed of hearing—”

“I’ll have to rectify that then, and say them as often as I can,” Steve murmured, setting his cup down on the night table and then taking Tony’s mug out of Tony’s hands. “Move over.”

Almost numbly, Tony obeyed, still trying to get his brain to catch up with what was happening, and he watched bemusedly as Steve took off his slippers and slid under the covers next to Tony. Delicately taking the tablet away, he gently pulled Tony back against his chest and rubbed a hand over Tony’s back. “I’m here, Tony, and I’m not going anywhere. Not because you – you think I suspect you, or whatever you were saying. But because you were there when I woke up, and you cared for me, enough to give me a home. You led this team and you tried your hardest, even when it seemed impossible. You are a futurist, Tony, and I’ve never been more proud to know you.”

Tony would have liked to visit that, understand it, pick it apart and turn it over and over, because it still didn’t fit in his worldview, didn’t make sense. But there wasn’t much he could do right now, not with Steve’s warmth seeping through Steve’s shirt past Tony’s pajamas and into Tony’s bones. It felt like he could sleep for a week, and he could feel his eyelids falling shut to the slow, rhythmic movements of Steve’s hand.


	3. Together They Try (and, Finally, Succeed)

Tony woke in the morning to the strange-but-not-unwelcome feeling of being warm and comfortable. He blinked open his eyes and stared in confusion at the windows. It was far too bright – why was it…

He sat up, eyes flying open, to see Steve Rogers blinking sleepily up at him, blue eyes squinting a little. “Tony?” he asked, voice fuzzy. “Everything alright?”

“Everything is _not_ alright!” he snapped, nearly tripping over himself to get to the bathroom. “I had an important conference call at eight! Pep will have my head!”

Movement from the bed told him Steve was getting up, but he was hurrying through brushing his teeth and shoving fingers roughly through his hair. God, he needed a shower, but he wouldn’t have time if he—

Steve opened the bathroom door and handed him his phone.

“What?” he asked, frazzled, and picked up the device to stare at the surface message.

_If you come in before 10a I WILL BE VERY UPSET – Potts_

“This…” he blinked at it and furrowed his brow. “This does not make sense. None at all. What—?”

“If you think I’m the only one worrying about you, Tony, I hate to say it but you’d be wrong,” Steve chuckled. “Yesterday Ms. Potts took me aside to chew me out for upsetting you.”

“She _what_?!” Tony yelped, dropping the toothbrush in the sink.

“Shower, Tony, and then you and I will go eat some breakfast.”

***

In the shower, Tony tried to make sense of the weirdness that was his life at the moment. He couldn’t really complain that Steve Rogers had kissed him, or spent the night in his bed even if it was to cuddle him and nothing else. But everything else… anything else… he didn’t know how to handle.

He had managed to resign himself to Cap’s hovering and suspicious looks. Knowing that they were in fact something else, something _other_ than suspicion... well.

It made him a lot more confused.

Rinsing the soap out of his hair, he tried to think about it rationally. If he was in fact okay with Captain America… with _Steve Rogers_ … it went a long way to making everything else bearable. Not okay, not by a long shot, but… bearable.

Because as sad and juvenile as it seemed, Tony still clung to the fact that Cap had a stricter sense of morals and honor than most people had. If he saw something in Tony worth saving, he wasn’t going to question it.

(Okay, yes, he’d question it, but privately.)

Instead, he had to try to live up to the expectations on him now.

It was as simple as that.

He dried himself off and hesitantly picked up the phone Steve had left in the bathroom. There was another message: _I’ve cleared your morning. Let me know if you want me to clear the afternoon._

He gnawed his lip a moment before replying, _Thought you were tired of me slacking in the CEO department._

Almost immediately, an answer came: _You deserve a break. Just for that, I’m clearing your whole day. Come in tomorrow rested and ready to take on the idiots in Congress_.

Involuntarily, his lips quirked up in a grin. He was used to dealing with the idiots in Congress; it wouldn’t be that hard.

And having a day of rest sounded perfect, to him.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. “You decent?”

Hastily, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his hips even as Steve opened the door, dressed in a t-shirt and sweats and nothing else.

“I made pancakes in the kitchen,” he said easily. “It’s late in the morning, so they’re probably safe from Hulk and Thor, but I wouldn’t leave them too long if I were you.” He eyed Tony up and down, and Tony felt his cheeks heat. “Throw on something quick and come on. There’s more talking to be done, after all.”

“You’re just a bundle of words today, aren’t you?”

“Ms. Potts let me know there were misconceptions I could have fixed if I’d simply explain myself the first time,” Steve called over his shoulder. “I’d prefer not to have any more communication errors.”

“Communication errors, my ass,” Tony muttered as the bedroom door closed and he dug through his drawers to come up with a black tank and sweats. Hair still damp from the shower and curling a little at the base of his skull, he made his way down to the kitchen and stared in frank amazement at the amount of pancakes sitting on the table.

“Hulk did stop by,” Steve said casually, kicking out a chair for Tony, “so I’m glad I made extra.”

“This is _after_ the Hulk ate?” Tony asked, a little faint.

Steve smiled, a little sadly. “I know I can’t expect you to eat much, but I wish you’d eat quite a bit. You’ve dropped weight – don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“I didn’t think you did. Hell, _I_ didn’t notice,” Tony grumbled, sitting down and taking three pancakes from the stack.

“About that,” Steve began, and it looked like it was an effort for him to keep his gaze on Tony, though he was making considerable attempts.

Tony paused with the fork partway to his mouth. “About what?” he asked warily.

“You – you didn’t think I noticed. You think that I – that what happened last night is out of the blue. I saw it in your eyes last night, in your eyes this morning.”

Tony squirmed uncomfortably. “You have to admit, there seems no build-up to this kinda thing. I always took you as someone who considers all options before making a choice.”

“The fact that you think I didn’t is, frankly, more insulting. I considered my choice carefully, yes, but I also considered my happiness and knew that I’d be happy with you. I’m not changing my mind now, here, in the light of day. I’d like a relationship with you, Tony. I’d like to get to know you that way, and I’d like to have your back. I’d – I’ll understand if you’d prefer not, if this isn’t something you want—”

Tony put his hand up, saying, “Wait a minute. Wait a goddamned minute. First, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it in passing – but that’s all it’s been. In passing. I don’t – look, I didn’t think this was something realistic, so I kinda cut that part away. But!” he said, as he noticed Steve’s gaze dropping and those broad shoulders hunching. “I’m not saying no. Hell, I’m not sure what I’m saying. I guess what I mean is… you’re gonna have to work with me a bit, but I’m. I’m for this.”

Steve licked his lips nervously. “Well. Well then, that’s good. I’m glad.”

Tony laughed weakly. “You’re glad?”

“Yes,” Steve repeated, his lips twitching into a small smile. “I am. And I’m also glad that I have the chance now to address what’s upsetting you.”

Tony swallowed his mouthful the wrong way and began coughing.

“Not right away! I figure you’ll tell me in your own time. But I’m just – happy I’ll have a chance. To know that, to know you. To be with you,” Steve said hurriedly, and then cleared his throat awkwardly. “Finish your pancakes.”

With a chuckle, Tony tucked into the rest of his pancakes. Around a mouthful, he remarked, “You know, Pepper gave me the day off.”

Those blue eyes zeroed in on Tony, and there was something deeper, darker in them, something possessive but also something incredibly eager and happy. Deciding to chance his luck, he offered, “Once I’m done, we could. You know. Rest for a little while longer.”

The smile on Steve’s mouth this time was decidedly filthier and more possessive. “That we could,” he murmured.

***

They didn’t quite make it to the bed that first time, or even to actual fucking, but Tony had to admit the second time was more than worth it. Splayed out on the bed, skin cooling and slightly sticky, he murmured a soft protest when Steve got up and weaved his way to the bathroom through their discarded clothes.

“Steeeve,” Tony called, embarrassed that his voice rose to a whine but not enough to keep himself from continuing, “c’mon. One day.”

“You won’t be all that happy being sticky when you wake up,” Steve called back, even if his voice was roughened from sucking Tony’s brains out of his cock their first round.

Tony manfully refrained from saying something ridiculously sappy, like that he’d rather fall asleep with Steve right beside him – and that he was sleep-deprived enough that, now that the endorphins were draining from his brain, he was crashing hard. Instead he stared up at the ceiling and muttered to himself, “How did I get so lucky?”

“That’s a question I should be asking,” Steve replied from the bathroom doorway.

Tony laughed a little when Steve nearly tripped and face-planted onto the bed, and then hissed a little at the cool washcloth that was wiped over his abdomen, ass, and cock. Then Steve was unceremoniously dropping it to the side and curling up on the bed with Tony again.

Cap was a secret snuggler. Who knew?

Not that Tony was complaining.

***

A week later, Tony stared at the giant billboard – the last one – and confessed quietly, “Everything the Purple Man made me do? It was all inside me.” And, most damning and the doubt that had been eating him up from the inside, since he’d become free of the Purple Man’s influence, “What I did – is that the future I’ve been working towards?”

Steve clasped him on the shoulder, said meaningful words there in the light of the setting sun. And then, later in the bedroom, as he curled up behind Tony, both of them laying on their sides, cock sliding between Tony’s legs, he whispered, “The future you’ve been working towards is a future of peace. How we get that will change.”

“Now? You’re – ohh, _fuck_ – you’re gonna talk about this – unnff – _now_?”

Steve nipped his ear and guided his lubed cock towards Tony’s very well-stretched asshole that was twitching, looking for something to fill the emptiness inside. “You say—” he broke off to grunt, jerk his hips forward to bury himself partway, and then continued roughly, “You say you’re worried – about the ideas inside you – but they all pointed – to peace.” He let out a deep groan, hooking his chin over Tony’s shoulder and letting his free hand, the one not curled around Tony’s chest, holding Tony tight to Steve’s front, slide down to lightly grip Tony’s cock, provide _some_ friction but not _enough_. “That’s what you wanted. The rest of it – was just a twisted path – to get there.”

And it damn well wasn’t the best time, or even the smartest time, but…

…But Tony leaned his head back, let his legs fall open even more as Steve began to thrust his hips forward. And if some tears leaked, some last measure of absolution easing his heart, well.

Steve was too much of a gentleman to mention it, anyway.


End file.
